My Makati: Part Une

The whole point of creating a new blog is to find inspiration again -- something I lack for some time now. An old classmate from third grade inspired me to start (or build around my journal) with pictures. As we all know having and lugging around the metropolis with my own point and shoot camera helps. 

I've been working in the city of Makati for 3 years now. And when you're in the city spending is inevitable. Being there daily also means that  I'm surrounded with skyscrapers, noise and smoke pollution, traffic, busy people who are always in a hurry and are consumed in the city's constant activity. But Makati is different. It's like stepping into a whole new dimension. To me, Makati is the NYC of the Philippines. You have the business structures, the Stock Exchange, museums, diversified collection of restaurants and fast food chain, and yes...the people from all walks of life, some from the bucolic provinces of the Philippines and some from the other side of the globe.

As I get to walk every day in the Ayala Triangle, MSE and Salcedo Village for work that's where my first (photo) blogging of Makati commences on. 

** From now I have to remember that ATG operates only from 6am to 10pm. Mademoiselle, that means, no more late night walk in the park. 

Ingenious is the person who had placed these asymmetrical silhouttes on the ground. The park looks like a living and breathing museum because of it. 

Has any one ever thought of using this spot as a wedding location. I've always wanted to plan a wedding here - not mine of course, but of somebody else's. 

But it would sound a little tacky if you say you'll be marrying in the Stock Exchange. Who gives a shit? Let the money roll. 

The bustling noise of the PUVs and the ongoing construction of the Makati Avenue lane is a hassle not to be trifled with. 

Madame my apologies but you are the victim of (VPL? just kidding)  or this girl's uncontrollable urge to click the shutter of her camera. 




(Originally posted on September 8th, 12:37)

chocolateur

A simple treat brought by my sister -- all the way from Milan -- during her short summer vacation this August. This thick chocolate (not so sweet spread) remains a favorite of my tastebuds since high school. Refrigerated or kept warm 'Nutella' never fails to put me in "it's-so-delectable-i-can-whip-the-spoon-with-my-tongue mode."

The best chocolate chunk cookies I've ever had (even besting out Chips Ahoy! in my opinion). The cookies are crunchy and it's definitely filled with chocolates. Found this one on our refrigerator, without any knowledge where it came from, so I'm not even sure whether it was bought from a nearby grocery here in the Philippines by my mother or if given by my family from Italy. My next job at hand when I have the chance to visit the grocery is to look for this brand and buy it ASAP!




(Originally posted on September 7th, 15:02)

Replacing my inkless pen with a pencil and a sharpener…

How do I feel about writing? A line from a movie came off with this, “getting words from him is like pulling a piano off from a pond.” Well that’s exactly what I would say since I haven’t written anything in a very long time. Though I have diverted my attention to other forms of creative expression they still couldn’t amount the happiness I felt every time I write my thoughts down.

Yes, my last 2 years had simply became unproductive, mindless and boring. The pain of losing my written works is comparable to that of losing a child. I haven’t been pregnant (nor have any dreams of being one) but I could completely identify or express empathy to those women who had suffered from a miscarriage since I can measure up the whole process of writing to bearing a child – it is simply made up of hard work and love.

Then again, despite of this worthwhile experience I let this pain impede my ability to actualize my dreams. It did not serve as a tool or inspiration for me to beat the odds. Rather, it became my “Achilles heel” or my very own “Kryptonite.” It crippled me or shall I say, made me immobile. On the contrary, the anger and rage I stored up inside for almost 2 years made me grew tiresome. I was like an over erupted volcano worn-out from blowing my molten lavas. As I saw the lack of reason to this hatred I’ve finally decided to put an end to this self waged “war”, leave the battlefield, and go home without a hint or shed of animosity to the events that had wounded me.

This might sound like a cliché but the only way I could claim my freedom to grow is by allowing myself to let go of the pain I’ve held in the past. That’s why it is only befitting to title this entry as “replacing my inkless pen with a pencil and a sharpener” because it is about letting go of something that is already of no use.

My anger by now is a waste of energy; my complaining, a waste of time. Right now is a new beginning, a new notepad, a renewed reason for living.

A voice within tried to tell my heart that I should start sticking to doing things I know I could do no wrong like singing, or perhaps in activities that I’m passionate the most where I could see myself improving such as writing and taking photographs.

Promises are a silly thing to commit into. There are twist and tales, hidden plots, the workings of the subconscious, plans of the powers that be, lies and deceit, which one is which I don’t know. What I’m definitely sure is I’m not sure.

Hurt

I have no more fantasies of hearing any good news this week or by the end of the week.

What was happening to me is fated. If it is a question between remaining on this team or resignation, then I'll take the latter. Because I'll go mad (or will be driving myself into the brink of insanity) if I stayed there. All the signs and episodes of a major depressive has been manifesting in me already. If I continue working there I'll be locked in the shelter in no time. Just imagine, I've been crying and having emotional upheavals for over a week now. I haven't been this frequently depresed as compared to my earlier years.

Though some of my colleagues were saying that our boss was trying to fish me out from the puddle, I couldn't see the light or hope for it ever becoming feasible. Especially when there are mean, degrading people that has been hampering my movement since day one. Gosh! To fool myself that I'll be getting a free and easy exit pass from this team is wishful thinking. I could already fathom my boss apologizing to me, or my colleagues avoiding my text messages or saying sorry about me not getting the permission to transfer.

First of all, I'm just being logical here. They were already going through the training. How else could I catch up with that? Writing this entry is only a way to console myself in regards to that drastic possibility. At the present, there are no friends who could emphatize. I maybe stubborn or a sour grape for I don't listen to their suggestions (to move on and let go) but they will never understand the sentimentality or the hurt of being thrown out for no good reasons. Plus, I have to learn to cope again from isolation and get used to the idea that I'm back to zero.

I just started getting comfortable, working my niche work together then get busted in a snap. Well, that's too much to recuperate from for a borderline-dysthymic-and-melancholic type of person such as yours truly.

Writing, singing, listening to music, watching a movie and traveling are the only thing in this life I love doing. If I could get lost and never return to my reality that would be awesome! Maybe I should have been an actress. Why don't I contemplate on that? But acting has always been a picky business and I have a damn unattractive countenance to get qualified. The pantomime perhaps? My face would be covered up in white while my body is hugged in a tight jump suit. No one would recognize me in that get up. At least there I'll be living up to my name as 'the professional ghost'.

Just this afternoon, during my slumber, I have dreamt of seeing 2 couple having sex. The woman on top of the man (in a black and white image) and then seeing their genitalias on an up close shot, moving together, entwined. That's weird. Maybe I need to get laid, or perhaps my sexual inhibitions and frustration has prompted my brain to see them in my unconscious. For a crazy person, sometimes my id overwhelms my ego.

It seems lately that every step I take lead me one step closer to insanity. Like a string from my nerves is constantly being plucked out until I run into a complete stupor.

There She Goes

Can't believe that I've confessed my tendencies toward SI/SH to someone. Starting to regret that decision now. I'm such a blabber mouth.
I'm thinking of watching either Attack of the Clones, Revenge of the Sith or Empire Strikes Back when I get home. Now I miss Star Wars , I'm such a dork!
My depression has made me fall out of love again. I guess that's a good thing, since first of all, it is forbidden to like someone who is already committed. I've learned my lesson and I'm not going to cry over the same person ever again. But I cannot promise not to cry for being in love because it is just inevitable. Loving someone always equates the feeling of getting hurt. It's a contrast. But we learned more by developing through our pain or negatives.
I'm planning on printing some of my artsy fartsy photos I've taken before and will start compiling them in a portfolio. I'm just totally ecstatic to make it happen. Hopefully! So I'm crossing my fingers now. 
I'm also considering to join a mountaineering club. It might sound strange, given that I'm such an acrophobic klutz. But the best way to exorcise my fear of heights is to put myself into the test.
PS: I'm also pondering on a crusade for anti-noise pollution, mostly cause by vehicles. Since I'm now working in a company where fine hearing is a necessity. I have started to pay more attention on the importance of hearing and the debilitating effects of noise pollution. I've realized (in a deeper sense) what's in stake if we lost our sense of audition  - no music, no sound, no singing, no conversations and vice versa. That's totally sad don't you think?